In the Garden
by daincrediblegg
Summary: 100 years of consciousness, and DiMA has never done anything quite like this before. Turns out he's a lot better at it than he thought he would be... DiMA/Female Sole Surivor Special thanks to Mothtrap, my marvelous beta, for all the encouragement. Enjoy!


She pulses for him and he is ecstatic. He is not afraid but he feels so strange as she beckons him forward. Her legs slowly begin to part and he shows no hesitation. His education is about to begin.

She is smooth and soft and warm. An organic kind of beauty, flowing and graceful, impossibly replicated. He almost feels unworthy of her, his chaotic form detracting from her like a new built mausoleum in a garden rich and green. But she caresses his head, nodding and smiling at him, and he's certain that she will overcome him in time.

"Take your time," she says, a suspiciously exact copy of his own words, and his reassurance is a kiss to her thigh, slowly creeping inward. She shivers in a spasm when his lips connect with her skin, and he hasn't felt more alive. But when he finally reaches her sex, he hesitates. Her folds have vines of their own, and he tangles his fingers there. His eyes drift up to see hers fluttering shut with a sigh.

He traces just below them, passing a small nub, and a short gasp accompanies her muscles tuning themselves of their own accord. He makes a note of it with a grin, to return to it later. But for now he wants to explore further down. He reaches her entrance, and she feels lovely. She's softer here than anything he's ever felt, and his fingers prod at her a while, if only to test how soft she truly is.

"Oh…" he moans, and her breathing takes on a weightier tone as his fingers press and press. He begins to think she can't possibly feel as good as she does, until he can't help himself, and presses again just hard enough to slip himself inside.

She keens soft like birdsong, and he is overwhelmed. She clenches around his foreign presence and her warmth sinks in to the metal beneath his synthetic skin.

"You're… you're so…" he stammers, slowly beginning to withdraw his finger from her. It glistens from the dim light and suddenly he wonders what exactly she tastes like. He sees her eyes open as he brings his finger to his lips, and satiates his own curiosity with a long lick, her light, savory flavor filling his nostrils and dancing on his tongue.

"You're so _wet_ …"

Her eyes fill with desire as he says those words, and it doesn't take long for him to decide to commit her to memory. Her breasts heaving with her chest, breath shallow and wanting, eyes pleading for him to return his hand to where it was. He is not blind to that, so he brings his hand back down to where it was before, and thrusts his finger in again.

Time spans only a short while before her sighs become louder. He watches her face, smiling dreamily as he curls his fingers into her softness. His peripheral gaze is drawn from her eyes and back down to the pearl of nerves he'd grazed earlier. It is slightly larger than before, and just as wet as the rest of her. He remembers how she tasted, and dips his head lower for want of her.

"Ah!" she cries, tightening around him again in pulses as he draws his tongue around the small perky nub. Her hips raise against his unoccupied hand, steadied on her thigh gently, indenting her skin. He experiments with his tongue, listening for how her breath changes between strokes up and down, to neat little circles, or larger, slower, more tantalizing ones.

She is too far gone now to look at him. Her moans quicken and by a rhythmic impulse his fingers match her. She feels like she's getting smaller and smaller around him, like a coil, and he feels her smooth palm reach for his face.

"DiMA…" she breathes as he looks up at her, just in time to watch her throw her head back.

And then the coil shatters. Her cries reach their peak and his ministrations feel heavier as she pulses around him with finality, her wet release smoothing his last entrances into her. With a final kiss to her clit, he rises, his frame hovering over her flushed cheeks, his right hand still fixed between her legs, his left tangled comfortably in her hair.

"I haven't done anything quite like that before," he chuckles, as she wraps her arms around his neck. She laughs back, and seeks to taste herself from his lips.

"Not bad at all for a first try".


End file.
